


Won't Be Alone (Again)

by rainy_fangirl



Series: songfics [7]
Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, Falling Out of Love, Pining, Post-Break Up, Songfic, set in between when they get divorced and when Cristina leaves for switzerland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:13:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainy_fangirl/pseuds/rainy_fangirl
Summary: "I can finally see, you're as fucked up as me, so how so we win?"And yet, she remembers the early days.





	Won't Be Alone (Again)

_ {What a strange being you are, God knows where I would be _

_ If you hadn't found me, sitting all alone in the dark _

_ A dumb screenshot of youth _

_ Watch how a cold broken teen _

_ Will desperately lean on a superglued human of proof} _

 

She was tired of fighting for the both of them. Cristina just wanted it to be over, was that too much to ask? She had fallen asleep on the basement floor hundreds of times, before or after a particularly taxing surgery. There was nothing comforting about it anymore, the steady flow of water through the hospital’s slowly dying pipes, the occasional, hissing release of air through the basement’s vents. “This is my life now too.” Cristina murmured to herself, watching the warm steam rise. The fans kept turning, like the engine on a plane. Fight, kiss, pass around divorce papers with no intention of signing them, repeat. 

 

_ {What the hell would I be, without you _

_ Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth} _

 

Kissing him had tasted like morphine, the first time. She had assumed it was the painkillers Meredith had fed through the IV, but noticed it again later. Owen was her tranquilizer, her relief. Those first weeks had been a mess of her not remembering how to date, she’d been playing at affection. They tried for each other, something she could appreciate in their marriage’s final days. Tried, past tense. The comfort that she took in that was pitiful. Cristina Yang didn’t lose; in fact, she did everything to keep herself from that. But wasn’t that just what she’d done with love? Head in the clouds, Cristina had followed him, hoping, knowing Owen would understand. Religion, marriage, keys in cups, and eyebrows. The army, trauma-cardiac surgeons who were (admittedly) much prettier than her, and basement vents. The things that had kept them together, the things that had torn them apart, the things that had done both. Like planes crashing, nothing could have kept them together, suchers couldn’t fix this one. 

 

_ {'Cause I'm sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin _

_ I can finally see, you're as fucked up as me _

_ So how do we win? _

_ Yeah, I'm sick of losing soulmates, won't be alone again _

_ I can finally see, you're as fucked up as me _

_ So how do we win?} _

 

And yet, she remembers the early days, the simple complexity Cristina had swooning at every touch. Sinking into the days where the most she had to worry about was whether the Mercy West mergers were better than her and Lexie Grey was still alive. Cristina reminds herself of her mother, in the short months in between her dad and step-father. A dejected looking spinster, but for Cristina, it’s medicine over interior design. Arteries over throw pillows. She used to pride herself on this, claiming that while other women were picking out new curtains, she was saving lives. Really, Cristina was no better than them, taking months off work just to avoid seeing him, like the housewives she’d always resented. Lexie had her peanut butter cups, Meredith had tequila, and Cristina had her furniture. She used to be better.

 

_ (We will grow old as friends, I've promised that before _

_ So what's one more? _

_ In our grey-haired circle, waiting for the end _

_ Time and hearts will wear us thin _

_ So which path will you take, cause we both know a break _

_ Does exactly what it says on the tin} _

 

Looking back, she can see that they never had any ‘easy’ between them, not really. If Cristina could look past the drunken disasters, and the broken ceiling fans, and the icicles and abortions, they were still a broken mess of hot and cold. She imagines all the ways they could’ve done better, done right by each other. Cristina had always told herself that if things were meant to be, then none of it would be easy. Those of course, had been the days when she believed in ‘meant to be’, but she’s lived through enough to know better. None of this remedies the way she misses his fingers in her hair. It doesn’t fix Owen’s hands sending shivers down her spine, his kisses sending her spinning, and his heart making hers beat again. Cristina loves him and misses him in an incessant sort of way, something she and Burke never even got close to. Even when she thought she could fix everything, they are the romantic equivalent of the McNeils, or at least that’s how Cristina sees it. Every time she thinks they are getting through, that she and Owen could heal, something new falls apart. They are pre dispositioned to fail each other. And now, she adapts. She puts herself on bypass, a body without a heart. The surgeon in Cristina knows her time with him is coming to a close, and she can’t stay like this forever. Then, she considers the steady beating of the basement vents, the way the ceiling fan moves as it always has, without stopping or interruption. And so she will too, Cristina believes in herself. She can do this. She’ll live.

 

_ {I won't take no for an answer _

_ I won't take no} _

 


End file.
